Foster Girl: The Final Cut
by ralynsevenfoldd
Summary: Please, please, please read the authors note! It contains important information. As time went on, it seemed the less Sabree seemed to fit in. It was a lifestyle she'd become accustom to, living out of a suitcase. Rated T, rating may change as I upload more though.
1. Chapter 1

_**Authors note: So I realize that Lords of Dogtown is dated, and I'm sure no one will stumble upon this but that's okay. This is my fan fiction baby, and it's been rewritten 3 times since maybe 2007, I'm hoping to add some finality to it. Being that it's been so long, I no longer have access to my original fanfiction account so I had to make a new one. If you would like to read the original Foster Girl, it's under my old pen name of Wasting Words. My writing skills have obviously grown since then, and although I'm trying to keep the characters and plot somewhat similar there have been some edits from the 2012 version. Name pronunciation, if anyone DOES read this, is Sabree. Yeah. I don't own LoD except my OC's. Here we go.**_

"Sabree, are you ready?"

She glanced at the door, ignoring the soft voice of the social worker and returned her attention to the mirror in front of her. She ran a hand through her lavender locks and bunched them up at the top of her head, making it look like some exotic animal took residence in her hair. Her eyes met her reflection, one amber eye, the other an ocean blue, a genetic defect she was born with, as she prepared her make up for the day. Because of this defect, her peers at the foster home often referred to her as a mutant, a nickname she was more than happy to carry. A quick swipe of eyeliner tapering off into a cat eye and red lipstick that well complimented her porcelain skin, she was ready to face the day.

"Sabree?"

"Give me a minute."

Her third foster home in two months, eleventh foster home in two years, it seemed as time went on the less she seemed to fit in. It was a life style she'd become quite accustom to, living out of a suitcase. Would this home be any different? She shook the thought out of her head. Who cares? She was more than content with her gypsy life. The door clicked open behind her and she turned her body to face the overwhelmingly nice Paula.

"Fuck, Paula, I said give me a minute. For Christ's sake."

The social worker shrugged off her remark and pulled her into a warm hug.

"Jesus, Paula, control yourself," Paula persevered, awash in the delusion that after all these years Sabree Thomas had finally found her forever home.

With a final squeeze, she broke the hug but kept her hand on either side of the girls face. The loving and hopeful gaze she held quickly vanished and the crows feet around her eyes tightened upon seeing the hoop going through the teens left nostril.

"Why would you go and stick a dirty needle through your nose like that? You're face is pr—"

"Because that's how piercings work, Paula. I like it, and it's staying."

She chuckled and handed a bag of clothes to Sabree. "I picked you up some new clothes, I don't personally agree with what I picked out but it's definitely your style. I figured new home, new clothes right?"

Sabree rolled her eyes and began sifting through the bag. A black, lace, belly baring top, a red flannel shirt, and destroyed denim shirts. "Damn, Paula. I'm surprised…dare I say I even _like_ these clothes?"

Paula gave a modest shrug. "You know, you can pretend to be cynical all you want but I know that you hope this new family works out as much as I do. I'm going to miss you so much, you're one of my favorites here but I really feel like this is 'the one'. Now get dressed, we're running late."

….

Venice was hot and miserable on this particular day, the sweat causing Sabree's thighs to stick to the leather interior of the car like scotch tape despite the air conditioning running full blast.

Cher was coming through the speakers softly, and Paula was continuing on about how happy she was. Small talk was never something Sabree excelled at but she entertained the conversation with occasional 'mhm's' and 'yep's.' Her mind was somewhere else, as much as she knew this home would toss her out within a months' time, there was a small sliver of hope that Paula was right and this was indeed 'the one.'

She pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window, taking in the passing houses. They all looked eerily alike, from the white picket fence down to every minute detail such as the same flowers in the flower beds and creepy garden gnomes; a page straight from Better Home and Garden magazine. They were large, white, and perfect—she'd never been taken in by a wealthy family before.

"Welcome home, girl. I met with this family a few months back and they are absolutely fabulous. The mother and father travel a lot for work but they have a son right around your age. You're being left in very good hands." Sabree shifted her bag in her lap as she surveyed the house. Paula was already at the door and motioned for her to come up.

"Paula, it's so nice to see you again! I can't tell you how long we've been waiting for this moment!" She clasped her hands over her heart as she turned to Sabree. She was beautiful, trying to fight the age of 38 and doing it oh so well. Her emerald eyes sparkled with delight and no look of judgement passed her face upon seeing the 16 year old. "Thank you so, so much for this wonderful gift." She was choking back happy years as she encompassed Sabree in a hug. A proud and handsome male stood next to her, with a strong jawline and dark hair decorated with a proud silver streak on the side, and patted Sabree on the back. Not the touchy feely type, thank God.

"Oh, no. Don't, stop, please do- okay, well this is happening I guess." Sabree muttered. The woman's hug deepened despite her protest.

She peeked over her shoulder into the front room that was festooned with a so cliché but hand crafted 'welcome home' banner, the living room table covered with a spread of snacks. A small canvas with flourish cursive that read, 'for this child, we have prayed,' was a center piece of it all.

"We are so thrilled to have you here, Sabree. I'm Teresa, this is my husband Clark, and my son, Tyler. Welcome to the family, dear. I can already tell you're going to fit in just fine. I'm going to go get the main dinner started, I'll leave you and Paula to say your goodbyes. Clark? Tyler? Would you mind giving them a moment?"

Sabree's eyes landed on Tyler and he was a carbon copy of his good looking father, the only notable difference was he had his mother's eyes. When she turned to look at Paula, her eyes were already swelling with tears. She took cupped Sabree's face in her small hands, grazing her thumb over her cheek.

"It's been a crazy ride, Sabe. I know how much you've been through but I am so honored to have seen your transformation through it all. You're tough, girl, but I know in my heart of hearts that this will be that last place I leave you." She pressed her lips to Sabree's forehead, the tears coming full force now. She used the heel of palm to brush away the salty liquid dripping down her cheeks then pulled Sabree in for a final hug. "I know you hate being touched but I'm going to miss you so much. I mean that."

Sabree brought her arms around Paula's waist, tearing up herself but she forced them away. She had never been a crier. "Iloveyou."

"Wait, you _what_ me? I didn't quite catch that." Oh, she had heard. But she wanted Sabree to say it, just for the sake of teasing her one last time.

"Damnit, Paula," She cleared her throat, "I said, _**I love you.**_ Thanks for everything, or whatever."

….

With Paula gone, there was nothing left to save her from what was sure to be a very awkward introduction dinner. They said grace. _Grace,_ for hell's sake.

Sabree used her fork to move her food around, not really having an appetite but not wanting to seem unappreciative of the cooking Teresa had done.

"So, Sabree, tell me a little about yourself. I mean, I know your family history but I want to know about you. What are your dreams, goals, or aspirations for the future?"

Sabree slouched in her chair, giving a shrug. "Maybe a hot dog eating champion or a serial killer. Haven't decided yet." She looked at Teresa to see her reaction.

"Oh, my. I'll get used to your sense of humor in time, I suppose. You've probably had a long day, if you'd like to clear your plate and head to your room for the night that's fine by me. We have plenty of time to get to know each other later." She winked, cutting her steak into small pieces.

….

Her room was amazing, at least three times the size of her room at the foster home. There was a walk in closet, a queen sized bed covered in floral bedding, resembling something that a grandmother would have made. A large window was on the wall opposite her bed, perfectly accessing the slanted roof where she immediately decided that would be where she would spend most of her time. She tucked her skateboard away in an empty corner next to her bed then threw open her suitcase, digging around her clothes for a baggie that held three tightly rolled joints.

She held the joint between her red lips, opening the window to perch on her perfect hide away. All of Venice was in front of her, lit only by moonlight. The moon was so close, she could reach out and touch it if she wanted to.

She lit the joint and inhaled, letting the marijuana take its full effect before exhaling the smoke. She'd been all around California but not one place she'd visited could compare to the view in front of her. She wondered about Tyler and why he didn't fit in with his clean cut parents. He looked similar to the boys she'd met in foster care, grungy and beach bummy. Had he always been that way? Was he simply rebelling, tired of the quiet and boring life his parents had laid out for him?

As if he had read her mind, his voice broke through her thoughts. "So that was a super awesome dinner conversation," he started, taking a seat next to her. "Mom likes to pry, she thinks she's being friendly but she doesn't realize not everyone is an open book." Sabree's only reply was passing the joint to him. He declined with a wave of his hand before continuing. "What's your story, foster girl?"


	2. Chapter 2

Sleep had come surprisingly easy that night. So much so that she didn't even remember falling asleep. Her new bed was cozy and warm, a much needed upgrade from the glorified cots she had in the foster home.

The morning was still, Venice was not yet in it's usual buzz. She threw her arms out to the side to stretch as she sat up from bed and looked around the room.

A run by the beach. That's what she needed. Ever restless, she pulled a pair of shorts from her suitcase along with a black sweater that was one wash away from disintegration. Over the years, it had become a security blanket of sorts and one of the few things that she kept bouncing from home to home. She grabbed a well read copy of The Hobbit and stuffed it in her pocket before heading downstairs.

She couldn't help but turn into the main living room, deciding to sneak a peek at her new living quarters. There were family pictures everywhere. Family pictures where Teresa, Clark and Tyler wore coordinating outfits. They looked like a stock photo that came in picture frames.

She could count the photos of her own family on one hand. A dad, mom and sister. Her fingers tips grazed the glass as she looked at every one too shy to pick them up.

It was 4:30 am. She gave herself a time limit of two hours, figuring even in this perfect family they would sleep until at least 7.

...

The beach was gentle beneath her pounding feet, sand exploding under every step. The soft sound of waves lapping and gentle bird songs her only soundtrack, the salt water air a surprising treat to her lungs.

Peace. Something she hadn't felt in a while. Sabree had never been a runner but if mornings could calm her soul this much, she would consider taking it up.

She ran until she hit town, only one neon sign glowing. A cup of coffee sounded nice. A bell chimed as she entered, the restaurant otherwise empty except a few folks also getting their caffeine fix before heading off to work. She sat herself in a table for two in an isolated corner. She pulled out her book and began to read. She was only two pages in before a tall blonde male, with hair nearly as long as hers, approached the table.

"I love that book. They made us read it in class last year but I loved it so much, I've read it three more times," he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "What can I get for you this morning?"

She looked up in mild annoyance, eyes landing on a name tag that read 'Stacy' etched in cheap plastic. "Yeah, it's pretty good. Water and a cup of coffee to go." Small talk was never her forte but she guessed Stacy was very popular with his customers. He had a soft voice and kind eyes.

He returned quickly with an empty glass and a pitcher of water. He placed the glass in front of her and filled it, "Your coffee will be out in a minute, I just put on a fresh pot. What brings you out so early in the morning?"

She hated overly chatty people. "Just needed to get out of the house."

"Family drama?" She could hear him as he walked to the kitchen to grab her coffee.

"Something like that." she muttered, watching his hand as he sat the coffee on the table. She grabbed a handful of sugar packets, ripped them open and took a sip of her water.

"Is it even still coffee if 75% of it is creamer?" He commented, leaning his palms into the tin edging of the table.

The comment caught her off guard but warranted a small chuckle from her anyway. She didn't notice that he never left. Water dribbled from the corner of her mouth and down her chin. Classy. "Probably not but who drinks hot bean water plain?" She pulled $5 out of her book, left it on the table, and pushed past Stacy.

...

She had only been gone an hour and she was in the clear. Her hand wrapped around the door knob and she placed her spare palm against the door, closing it quietly.

Clark came around the corner, coffee mug placed between his lips. He raised an eyebrow at Sabree. Busted.

"Coffee run?"

"I couldn't sleep."

Clark nodded, sipping from his coffee. "I get it. New house, new family. That can't be an easy adjustment. Just don't make it a habit, yeah?"

Sabree rolled her eyes. "Right...sorry."

...

It was 9:30 when Teresa got her up for the day. Her suspicions that they were an 'eat breakfast every morning together' type of family were correct and there was a large spread on the table. Sausage, pancakes, bacon, fresh fruits, eggs.

Teresa eye'd her as she made herself a plate, almost speechless at the amount of skin her outfit was revealing. It was the outfit Paula picked out. The only thing keeping her from being damn near naked was the plaid shirt that hung loosely off her body.

"Tyler, why don't you show Sabree around town today? Don't keep her too long, though, I'd like to take her out for a little mother/daughter day," Her hand clapped over her heart, "I've been waiting so long to say that." She smiled, patting her chest. "We're going to have _so much_ fun! We can get mani/pedis, get some new clothes. Oh, there's an amazing Italian restaurant that just opened up we could eat at!"

 _..._

"Are you ever going to answer my question?" Tyler pressed the entire ride to their destination.

"You seriously don't know? Your parents have been blabbing to Paula for months about me staying. Where the hell are we going?" Sabree asked, propelling herself forward on her skateboard trying to keep up with Tyler's long strides. Damn her short legs.

"Don't do that shit, man. Don't compare me to parents cause I'm nothing like them, and no they don't tell me anything. I knew you were coming, knew you were in a foster home, that's it." They arrived in a neighborhood not too far from Tyler's house. Tyler pushed open the wooden gate with his foot, revealing an empty pool.

"Tyler, where you been man? We've been here for like two hours bro!" Tony laughed from the deep end of the pool as the pair jumped in. His eyes caught on Sabree and he licked his lips in a charming way. "Damn, Tyler! Whose the chick and why have you been hiding her from us?"

Sabree dismissed him with a cold look.

"Fuck off, Alva. This is the kid my parents are fostering," he motioned for Sabree to come forward. "This is Sabree. Sabree, these are my asshole friends."

Asshole one, Tony, apparently, reached his hand out to capture hers. There wasn't a girl in Dogtown that could resist his charm. Blanca who? "There's a party at my place tonight, stop by." He said, eyes lingering on her exposed torso.

Asshole two was a blonde with a wirey frame. She knew this as he wasn't wearing a shirt. He didn't offer an introduction. Next to him was a brunette boy, younger than the rest she assumed. "Sid, I'm actually a few houses down from you and Ty, and this is Jay." He patted Jay on the shoulder.

The last asshole, she recognized. The blonde waiter from the restaurant.

He recognized her, too. "Hobbit girl, nice to see you again. I'm Stacy, pleasure to meet you Sabree."

"Wait," Tyler began, holding his palms between the two of them. "How do you guys know each other?"

"She came into my work this morning, grabbed a cup of coffee."

Tyler looked at Sabree. "I couldn't sleep. Your dad caught me, already got the lecture." She cut Tyler off before he could even speak.

"Foster girl, huh?" Jay sneered, "What's so terrible that's happened to you, that hasn't happened to any of us?" He challenged.

Sabree rolled her eyes with a dismissive chuckle. At least she didn't have to waste her time weeding out the true asshole in the group. "My loving sperm donor used me as a human punching bag. He tried selling me for heroine once...turns out drug dealers have a moral conscience though. Who fucking knew?" She pulled a cigarette from the pocket of Jay's shirt and lit it after patting herself down for a lighter. An act of pettiness to show she wasn't phased.

"We all got shitty parents. We deal."

"Really, Jay? Couldn't miss a chance to be a dick, could you?" Tyler scoffed, shoving Jay's shoulder.

"Yeah, man," Tony jumped in, getting in Jay's face. He pushed his chest into his. "What, you gonna come at me next cause my old man throws hands at me too?" He wrestled Jay into a head lock.

The fight escalated, fists and long hair flying everywhere, Ty and Stacy in the middle trying to break it up. Sabree tried to back away as the tangle of boys grew closer, when her back hit the textured walls of the pool she knew she had nowhere to go.

Call it PTSD, if you will, but fear clenched her chest as memories of her dad's fist colliding into her body pushed their way to the front of her mind. She did the only thing she knew to do and threw her own fists up in defense, ready to swing.

Her movements caught the boys attention, putting the violence on pause. Stacy was the first to break away. He had his hands held in front of him, palms facing her, as he approached. "Hey," he spoke in a hushed voice, "Hey, hey, it's cool. Everything's cool. No one's coming after you, okay?" His eyes were soft as he reached his hand out.

"You idiots can't be doing shit like that around her. The hell is wrong with you two?" Tyler yelled, placing his hand on the small of Sabree's back.

She wanted to crumble underneath his touch. Not because her 'new brother' was at her rescue but because she knew how weak she looked at that moment. Not the first impression she wanted to make.

She shrugged herself out of Tyler's grasp and charged out of the pool and away from the situation.


	3. Chapter 3

Shopping. Mother/daughter bonding time. Her life was turning into a bad after school special. Stay off drugs kids! At least Tyler was able to put it off by two months, convincing Teresa she needed time to settle.

'Don't come on to strong, mom. She needs time to adjust.' He had said. The first brotherly act completed.

The day had gone exactly as Teresa described; lunch at an upscale Italian restaurant, mani/pedis and now trip to stores with clothes that cost rent back at her fathers apartment.

At the nail spa, Teresa had insisted to get matching nails to kick off their relationship. Teresa had opted for a design that resembled the marble counter tops she had custom made for her home, with little jewel accents on the ring finger. She was so thrilled that she almost cried. She couldn't stop going on about how strong their bond was going to be, how much she's wanted a daughter and ultimately leading to the story about how Tyler would be the one and only child she would ever conceive.

"Isn't this so much fun? After this, I was thinking we could get our hair done. You know what they say, when a woman changes her hair she's about her to change her life!" Teresa smiled, passing some clothes over the dressing room door to Sabree. Appropriate clothes for a girl her age.

Sabree sighed, holding up a pair of pink lace, high waisted cloth bell bottoms and a white off the shoulder peasant top to match. "I like my life and I like my clothes, Teresa." She said, pulling on the pink pants. She flung the door open and gave a half hearted twirl for Teresa.

"I know. I know you are set in your ways but change isn't always a bad thing. And besides, this outfit looks so nice on you. It shows a little bit of tummy but not reveling. You can be proud of your body without showing it to the whole world." She smiles, tucking a loose strand of lavender hair behind Sabree's ear. "Try this on next, this blue is going to look absolutely beautiful with your complexion." Teresa grabbed a dress from the rack next to her, it was thin strapped and navy blue with large white flowers on it. It hit right at the knee when she held it against Sabree. "Perfect for family dinners if we throw a cardigan over it."

...

As promised, the last stop was a trip to the salon. Teresa and the stylist kept grasping at strands of her hair, twisting and tugging while the discussed what combination of colors would better replace the lavender.

"I'm thinking blonde, Cherise. Not too blonde, of course, nothing that will badly damage this gorgeous hair of hers."

The stylist now known as Cherise chewed on her lip, "The purple should lift easy enough but I'm thinking a dark brown at the roots fading into an ashy blonde would really warm up her skin, wouldn't you say?"

Sabree rolled her eyes. Didn't she get a say in what her hair looked like?

"I absolutely adore that idea! Honey, what do you think?"

Finally. "Whatever." Blonde was too reminiscent of her bastard sperm donor but whatever it took to get her out of there.

The whole four hours she had been there, her back had been turned to the mirror for an 'element of surprise' factor.

"Ta-da!" Cherise said as she spun the chair around, proudly showing off her masterpiece, "Dark hair really suits you, dear, maybe next time we can do brown all over."

Sabree studied herself in the mirror. The length was kept, hair still spilling past her shoulders to the top of her rib cage, Cherise had added some wispy banging that now concealed her forehead.

She hardly recognized herself as she combed her fingers through it. She hadn't had a decent hair cut in years. In order to save money, former hair dresser Paula did hair cuts in the foster home. And despite her disdain for Teresa being right, she did feel one step closer to a new life. Until her and Clark ultimately found a reason to bounce her back to the foster home, that is. She did like it though.

She smiled, "I like it. I look like Paula but I like it."

...

Music bumped through the night, cocooning every house on the block. There was an overload of people spilling from Tony's house, some Stacy knew, some he didn't. They lined the porch, occupied the lawn and every space in between.

His keys jingled as he slid them from the ignition and into his pocket. He took a deep breath and glanced at the house from the passenger window. All this time and he still wasn't sure why he came to these parties. He didn't drink, he didn't do drugs. To play designated driver for his friends? Ah, yes. Stacy Peralta had found his role in the world.

Tyler waved at him from the porch, signaling him to come inside. He opened the car door and approached Tyler. Tyler didn't drink, either, but he sure seemed to fit in the party scene better than Stacy did.

"You made it out, man." Tyler said, slapping his palms against Stacy's.

He shrugged, "Always do. Not sure why but here I am." He looked around, expecting to see Sabree. The party scene had her name written all over it but based on their first, cold encounters he couldn't imagine she would immerse herself in a crowd of new people. "Sabree bail?"

"I dunno. She's been with my mom all day but I figured she'd break away to come here. I was about to go look for her before she does something stupid and gets herself sent back to foster care."

Stacy's blue eyes took on protective look. Something about a girl unattended, surrounded by drunk men waiting to take advantage made him uneasy. Even when he was dating Kathy and forced to come, he stood by her side and kept eyes on her like a hawk. "Let's go then."

They weaved their way through the crowd, body heat from person to person warming their own skin. Not a purple head to be found.

The main center of attraction was a long table, red cups full of beer arranged in triangles at either side. Beer pong. Tony was at the head of the table, one arm raised to sink a tiny ping pong ball into a cup, the other draped over a girl. He held her tight, her head was nestled in his shoulder, his free hand intertwined with hers. They both cried out in celebration as the ball landed in the opposite teams cup and the girl held a bottle of whiskey above her head.

Signature red lips gave every indication it was Sabree as she pulled away to gulp down a shots worth of booze, chasing it with the solo cup of beer.

Her eyes lit up when she saw the pair. Her hair wasn't the only thing that changed. "You guys are here! Tony, look, friends!" Yesterday she was repulsed by breathing the same air as him.

Tyler eyed her latest hair color, "Mom got her claws into you, huh?" The roots of her hair were dark and the length faded into an ashy blonde color with silver undertones. He was embarrassed he could identify the color so specifically. Her make up matched her hair, neutral eyeshadows smoked out that flattered her different eye colors.

"Don't _even_ get me started dude. But you know what? I don't hate it. Teresa's got good taste." She laughed, eyes fixating on Stacy, who was nodding in acknowledgment.

"Looks good. Hey, uh, how much have you had to drink? You know if you come home wasted you could get sent back to the home right?"

" _Christ_ ," she snorted. "I can handle my fucking booze okay? It's a party, man. I thrive in this shit."

...

Stacy could feel his gaze focus on Kathy and Jay, swaying together to the music. The incident was months ago but the sting of Jay stealing Kathy was still a fresh wound and looking at them was like dousing it in lemon juice.

He turned away, leaning his shoulder into the wall. He should just leave, he thought. Nothing good ever happens at Tony Alva's house. At least for him.

"You can't let them get to you like that."

His head turned in the direction of the voice. Sabree, the last person he expected to see. She had two cups in her hand as she walked up to him, extending one out to him. "I brought you something to drink. It's just water, literally the only thing in this house that doesn't have alcohol."

Stacy took the cup, swirling it around. "Tyler told you." He really wanted to ask how she was still standing after all the booze he'd seen her consume tonight.

"Didn't have to," she said, glancing over her shoulder at the two. "I'm pretty good at reading people. A slut for a slut, am I right?"

Her statement caught him off guard, he stared at her wide eyed, partially offended but he kind of wanted to laugh the comment at the same time.

"Yeah, well, water under the bridge...or whatever." Stacy said, taking a drink of his water.

Stacy had never been a fan of alcohol but he was absolutely captivated by girl it turned Sabree into. Her eyes illuminated with her laughter, she was talkative, willing to open up to people. Her personality was genuinely likeable. He couldn't even begin to fathom the hell she'd been through to make her sober self so cold.

Sabree mimicked his movement, leaning into the wall herself. She folded her arm across her chest and let the other one rest on top, using her elbow as a cup holder. "Why do you even come to these parties? The booze, the boys...it's just not you, man."

He was used to hearing these comments. He had this conversation down to a science, "We're family." And he meant it, every single time.

A smile caught her lips as she lingered on his words. Family. The silence that filled the space between them was warm and inviting, the sound of the two sharing a genuine moment together.

If he could bottle this moment, he would. He would and he would give it to her to keep with her forever. A moment of belonging. He imagined those moments were few and far in between for her.

"Sabree, c'mon! We're 'bout to blaze up." Tony's voice crashed through the silence, he put his hands on her shoulders, giving her a push forward. It's like Stacy wasn't even there.

As Tony pushed her away, her eyes locked onto Stacy's. Something inside, something she couldn't place her finger on, compelled her to yell over the music. "I won't smoke too much. Promise."

...

Two hours later the door to Tony's bedroom swing open, smoke billowing in front of the large crowd. Everyone, except two people.

"Didn't Sabree go in there? I need to get her home, man." Tyler asked and began to walk to the room with Stacy. "Sabe, let's go."

Tony was pressed in between Sabree's legs, trailing kisses down her neck, her legs wrapped around his waist. They were both fully clothed, thank god, but Tyler had a feeling the situation would be a lot different had he barged in five minutes later.

"Jesus Christ," Tyler growled, tearing Tony away. "What the fuck, Alva? Out of all the girls here, all the _fucking_ girls, it had to be her? I told you to stay away from her! Fuck, shit." He needed to walk away. His hands clasped behind his neck as he turned to Stacy, too enraged to hear Sabree's drunk hollering or see the hurt sprawled across Stacy's face.

"It was only a kiss Tyler, the hell is your problem?" She slurred, pointing an accusing finger.

Need a little salt in that wound?

"I can't take her home like this. If my parents see her like this, she's going back to the foster home for sure." He gestured to Sabree, whose anger was short lived. She was sitting on the floor, laughing at nothing, happy as a freaking clam.

"She can stay at my place. My parents are out of town, she can sleep in my room. Just tell your mom and dad she's at Peggy's for the night." Stacy exhaled, lowering himself to the ground to pick up Sabree. He grabbed one elbow, Tyler grabbed the other and they walked her out to his car.

Tyler opened the passenger door so Stacy could get her in. He braced her back with his arm and slid the other under her legs to place her in the car. He buckled her in and shut the door.

"Thanks, Stace. Anything you need, name it and I got your back," Tyler prattled on, stopping when he saw Stacy rubbing his temples. "Hey, you okay bro?"

"Yeah, yeah. It's just, nothing good happens at these parties."

"Stacy, did something happen between you and Sabree? You're my bro but I'll knock you out if you kissed her, too."

"I'll tell you later, man. You better get home before your parents realize your missing." He said before getting in his car.

He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Realistically he had no reason to be upset with her. This was the first, and only, real conversation they'd had, he'd never known her outside of being distant but he thought their conversation meant something to her. Silly him. He looked over at Sabree, who was now passed out, and cranked the ignition.

The drive to his house was quick. He got Sabree out of the car and into the house. He laid her in his bed, removing her boots and covering her up. He stood with his hands on his hips, looming over her, in case she woke. When she didn't, he grabbed a blanket from his closet, flicked off the light and went into the living room to get some well deserved rest.

...

Light bounced off the walls and right through the thin skin of her eyelids. Her eyes cracked open, greeted by the yellow walls...wait. Yellow walls? She let her eyes travel open them, taking in the room, before bolting uptight, coming fully awake.

She wasn't in her room. But whose room was it? She swung her legs over the bed, gripping the covers for support. The world suddenly became a Tilt- A - Whirl at the county fair as she stood. Immediately she was hit with the overwhelming urge to vomit. She bent at the waist, emptying the contents of her stomach into a nearby waste basket. She wiped at her chin, trying to piece together the events of last night.

Tony's house. Booze. Weed. More booze. Stacy.

Stacy?! No, no, she couldn't be. She couldn't have. She grabbed the waist basket and opened the door to the bedroom, peaking her head out before she tip toe'd to the bathroom.

"I look like hell." she muttered, taking in her reflection. Flecks of mascara were speckled under her eyes and on her cheeks, red lipstick smeared around her mouth and down her chin. And let's not get started on the killer hang over. She wanted to detach her head from her body until the headache subsided. Her eyes traveled to her neck. Fuck. It was sore, dark marks kissing her pale skin. "Are you fucking kidding me..." she gasped, touching the marks. "What the hell happened last night?!" She huffed, grabbing the trash can and washing it out. She returned it to Stacy's room and clasped her hand over her lust bitten neck.

House creeping had become her forte over the last two months, it seemed. She stepped quietly through the quiet house, glancing around every corner.

Professional creeper in the house. She wondered if you could get paid for that. She walked down the hall of the front room, nearly home free. Stacy was in the kitchen and his eyes were on her. She averted her gaze, stepping forward to him.

"Hey...we didn't, um, _do anything,_ did we?"

Stacy shook his head, dropping a rubber in the spatula. "No, we didn't. I'm not that kind of guy," he started, folding his arms over his chest. "But you did with Tony. Or might as well have."

Ouch.

"You promised you would slow down."

Sabree let out an incredulous laugh, "Stacy last night I was a bottle of Jack and 10 beers deep and you're expecting me to remember a five minute conversation?"

At her words, she saw a flash of anger she didn't even realize Stacy was capable of. Within seconds, his beautiful blues went from scorned to disappointed to wrathful. "You're right. I don't know what I expected. I made you some food. Shower, eat, leave."


End file.
